


i'm waiting on you

by thedisasternerd



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alexsandr Kallus Has Issues, But he gets to address them so it's okay, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Planet Lira San (Star Wars), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s04e15-16 Family Reunion – and Farewell, Pre-Relationship, Soft Boys, These lads deserve the best, physical comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28794051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisasternerd/pseuds/thedisasternerd
Summary: “Woah, hey, easy Kal.” Zeb’s voice is gruff and so loving that it makes Kallus cry even harder. “Can I touch you?”He nods shakily, and then there’s an arm around his shoulders and he’s being tucked into Zeb’s warm side as the Lasat sits down next to him. A hand on his back, the warmth of it seeping into his very bones. He reaches up and wraps his arms around Zeb’s middle, burying his face in his friend’s shoulder; Zeb presses his cheek to the top of Kallus’ head.“Hush, sh, it’s alright.”“I’m sorry.” Kallus sobs. “I’m so kriffingsorry, I,Zeb.”“Stop that,” Zeb’s rubbing circles into his back and gods it’s...nice.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 6
Kudos: 116





	i'm waiting on you

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a star wars fan for over a year now and I can't believe I discovered the wonder that is Rebels so late. I love these idiots, they deserve the happy (gay) ending they got 100%

He finds himself sitting outside at night again. He feels like bantha shit and his throat hurts, tense and balled up from trying not to cry. 

So he goes out into the garden and stares at the stars in some stupid hope that he can forget. That he can be like a child again, innocent and wanting to be somewhere Up There, up in space, seeing something he’d never seen before, far away from the dirty reality of the city-planet, far away from the grimy underbelly of the galaxy’s glittering jewel.

Lira San is a remarkably advanced planet - not that Kallus should be surprised, he reminds himself with a stab of guilt - so the sky is exceptionally clear and unpolluted despite the fantastic industry and urbanisation in some parts of the planet. 

It's all still a bit novel for him. Alexsandr Kallus grew up in Coruscant’s Underworld. The only stars there were fake ones he’d stuck above his bunk and the glittering ones on his mother’s necklace when she’d stopped by, once, when he was six. The stars on the ceiling were the wrong colour, his dad had said, and the ones round his mother’s neck were gone as soon as they had appeared. 

By the time he’d all but forgotten his first name, had become Agent Kallus and only that, stars had become things planets orbited around and what systems were named after. They had become the things that made up hyperspace streaks and not much more than that. 

He had turned away from them. 

When he’d finally looked up at Lothal’s night sky and seen them again, sparkling alongside those moons, it had been too late. There was blood on his hands, up to his neck, far over his head. The stars he’d craved to see, to be among, were cold and unreachable even as his tears burned hot. 

And now, on Lira San. They glitter like so many of the stones in his mother’s necklace, strewn across the void, all tinged gold by that damn nebula. 

There’s blood on his hands again here. 

He’s done his best to wash it off, done his best to smear the remnants of it over good deeds and attempts at atonement. But it’s not enough. It will never be enough.

He knows, he _does_ , that Zeb has forgiven him. He knows that the lasat here have too, for some unfathomable reason. But there are countless others out there who haven’t forgiven that nameless ISB agent, others who haven’t forgotten his face, his voice, and never will. 

The guilt had gone away, for a while. The Rebellion had swept him up and there hadn’t been much time for thinking, for being alone. There had been things to do and all he could do was run, run and run with a blaster in his hand and ringing in his ears. 

Now it’s quiet. It’s quiet and he’s alone in his head and the silence _screams_ at him.

This is the third night in a row he’s found himself waking up in a cold sweat, cradling a friend in his arms, blood slick and hot over his hands, next to a blaster with his fingerprints etched in blood on the handle.

Humans can’t sleep without closing their eyes. And when he tries to all he sees is-

“Kal?” He flinches, surprised at the intrusion, and turns around. Zeb is rubbing at his face tiredly, ears lowered in anxiety and sleepiness, but is nonetheless making his way over to Kallus. “What are you doing out here?”

“I can’t sleep.” He whispers hoarsely. The words came out before he could stop them and _kriff_ he’s miserable, he’s pathetic. He’s crying, too, _gods_ , he’s crying in front of his best and only friend. “Zeb, I just _can’t_.”

He rubs at his face, furious at his show of emotion. His eyes are itchy and hot and they hurt, like his throat.

He doesn’t want it to be like this, he tells himself vehemently. He wants to stop seeing the bloodied stars that are branded to the backs of his eyelids, he wants to curl up into a ball and actually kriffing _sleep_.

Zeb’s ears twitch, flattening further backwards. His eyes are big and luminous and so _sad_ in a way that makes Kallus start crying all over again, burying his face in his hands. He can’t breathe properly, his breath whistling through his fingers, and his palms are wet with hot tears. It’s a decidedly unpleasant and humiliating experience but little hells he can’t _stop_ -

“Woah, hey, easy Kal.” Zeb’s voice is gruff and so _loving_ that it makes Kallus cry even harder. “Can I touch you?”

He nods shakily, and then there’s an arm around his shoulders and he’s being tucked into Zeb’s warm side as the Lasat sits down next to him. A hand on his back, the warmth of it seeping into his very bones. He reaches up and wraps his arms around Zeb’s middle, burying his face in his friend’s shoulder; Zeb presses his cheek to the top of Kallus’ head.

“Hush, sh, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” Kallus sobs. “I’m so kriffing _sorry,_ I, _Zeb_.”

“Stop that,” Zeb’s rubbing circles into his back and gods it’s...nice, “what are ya even apologising for, pal?”

“Everything.” 

Zeb snorts.

“Alright, if I accept your apology and forgive you, _again,_ will you feel better?”

Kallus shrugs. “I think that we should probably talk about it first.”

Zeb makes a low noise. It reverberates through Kallus’ chin and chest. 

“We talked about the big things already.” His hand slows a bit. Kallus is glad to find that his breathing is evening out. “You did terrible things, Kal. There’s nothing you can do to excuse that. But you did a very brave thing, to open your eyes to that, and to regret and apologise with everything you had. You’ve definitely atoned for it. And I haven’t forgotten it all, but I’ve forgiven it - and I know the others did too. So what are you apologising for, you idiot?”

Kallus heaves in a breath. He doesn’t deserve Zeb. But he’s right, in a way. Kallus still hasn’t done everything he possibly can, still feels soul-crushingly guilty on some days. 

And yet.

“Crying on you, I guess.” Zeb snorts and Kallus peels his face off his friend’s shoulder to smile weakly at him. Zeb nudges him affectionately and Kallus rocks with it, Zeb’s arm pulling him back into his friend’s side. “Zeb, I - I. Your people accepted me, despite what I’ve done to them. I don’t deserve that. I am still not fully capable of expressing just how sorry I am for what I’ve done and it never feels like _enough."_

“So you beat yourself up over it.” 

The words are flat, a statement not a question. Kallus winces. Doesn’t answer.

“Oh, _Kal_.” 

Zeb tucks him in a little closer. Kallus tips his head up and finds that Zeb is looking at him with something unreadable on his face. He looks past those big eyes and at the sky, to the stars.

He huffs, sniffling. Zeb is silent, a comforting sort of blanket of quiet.

“Did,” he heaves in a breath against the aching tightness of his chest, “did I ever tell you my first name?”

Zeb’s ears twitch up a little, curious. Kallus finds himself smiling a little at that. 

“It’s Alexsandr.” It’s a very traditional Core name. When he’d been a child, growing up near the G17 Slums, his friends had teased him relentlessly for it, calling him an up-topper, a Senate pet, whatever had come to mind. “My mother apparently insisted on it.” 

His mother had lived up top, in the Galactic City. Probably still did. He had never bothered to reconnect, not even when some Jedi had found him halfway into the Temple and packed him off to the Republic’s all-new Military Academy. Not even when the Academy had become the Royal Imperial Academy. 

“So I’ll call you Alex, then, shall I?” The teasing tone is belied by the odd softness in Zeb’s expression. “Or would that upset your, er, _delicate Coruscanti sensibilities_?”

Kallus snorts.

“She called me Xander, or Sasha.” Twice. She’d said his name twice and it had been those two variants. His father and siblings all called him Xan and that had stuck until they’d died of worm fever when Kallus had been 15. “But Alex is quite alright Zeb.”

“Alright then,” Zeb pauses and elbows him, “ _Alex_.”

Kallus’ smile is helpless, his chest jolting at the use of his first name. When he looks at Zeb the lasat is grinning right back - until he sobers suddenly, eyes flitting over Kallus’ face.

“Karabast,” Kallus feels his heart drop, confused - did something happen? - until Zeb’s hand is coming up to brush his cheek, “you’re real pretty when you smile, y'know.”

Kallus feels himself flush and he turns away, into Zeb’s hand. They're going to have to address that later. These compliments Zeb had been giving him lately.

“Listen, Alex.” Zeb’s tone is serious. Kallus _doesn’t know what’s happening_. “I don’t know how, if, if you feel the same way, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. I love you for you. I love the whole of you. That’s not gonna be changing, not ever, I think.”

“Zeb, I.” Kallus swallows. He’s never done this before. There are so many doubts, so many flickers, so many things screaming in his head but he knows one thing for sure. Has for a while now. “Garazeb Orrelios, I love you too. As much as I think I can.”

The grin is back on Zeb’s face and Kallus laughs, slightly hysterical, slightly like he’s high on too much oxygen. 

“We are quite the pair.” He brings a hand up to cover Zeb’s and looks up, into the Lasat’s eyes. “Aren’t we.”

“Yeah.” Zeb raises his other hand up and ruffles Kallus’ hair, making him squawk indignantly and try to bat him off. “Yeah we are. Come here you.”

There’s little warning before Kallus is being pulled into Zeb’s lap, sprawling over him awkwardly. He barely manages to catch Zeb’s arm and haul himself into a sitting position - the other option would’ve been an even more undignified fall backwards onto the grass. 

As it is, he feels himself flush. Zeb’s arms are around his waist and Kallus is still clutching at the lasat’s bicep. 

Zeb is still smiling, lopsided and soft. Kallus can’t look away.

In a fit of daring, he lets go of Zeb’s arm and brings his hands up to the back of the lasat’s head, tangling his fingers in the short fur there. Zeb’s eyes have gone wide, surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, not yet. He stays quiet even as Kallus gently brings their foreheads together.

He closes his eyes but can still feel Zeb’s gaze on him. It makes his face feel hot.

“You’re cute.” Zeb laughs. One of his hands comes up to rest on Kallus’ cheek again, a finger brushing gently over the skin under his eyes. Kallus feels his entire face start to burn, ears too; Zeb’s laugh becomes a fond rumble. “Like a little loth-cat.”

“I am neither _little_ nor a _loth-cat_.” Kallus spits, opening an eye to glare, baleful, at Zeb. 

Of course, his attempt at admonishment fails. Most likely because of his doubtlessly bright red face, suddenly high-pitched voice, and the fact that he feels like he’s filled with a rush of endless love and adoration for a certain Garazeb Orrelios.

Zeb flashes a sharp canine.

“Sure, Alex.” The edges of his fingers scratch gently at Kallus’ scalp and he can’t help but push into it. _Gods,_ how did Zeb know- “see, you’re acting like one now.”

Kallus sighs and concedes since he knows that it’s a losing battle, leaning into the touch. He’s not used to physical intimacy and it’s making his insides squirm weirdly, so he closes his eyes again. But it’s nice and he feels bold, so he takes it a step further. 

He moves, dropping his weight to settle against Zeb’s chest rather than have to sit up on his own. Zeb rolls with it, keeping one hand in Kallus’ hair and one arm tight around his waist. In turn, Kallus wraps his arms around Zeb’s chest and buries his face in the lasat’s neck, tucking his knees up so that they rest against Zeb’s side.

“My little loth-cat.” The words vibrate through Kallus’ ears.

He sighs again and just holds on tighter. Zeb doesn’t let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Come chat, ask me stuff, vibe and/or yell at or with me [here!](https://thedisasternerd.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading :)


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